The Faded Dust
The dust on the desk weighed four ounces, a specific and measurable burden I had cataloged in my head for three years. I counted the items as I packed them into the cardboard box: one stapler, rusted at the hinge; three files of municipal zoning maps, 1924 to 1929; a ceramic mug with a chip in the rim that matched the color of old tea; and the resignation letter, folded into a square no larger...
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